


Heartbeat

by KestrelShrike



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/M, Fluff, ME3, prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-22
Updated: 2017-04-22
Packaged: 2018-10-22 18:16:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10702452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KestrelShrike/pseuds/KestrelShrike
Summary: I'm taking prompts over at my tumblr, kestrelsansjesses.tumblr.com. This was a received prompt, focusing on the phrase 'just focus on my heartbeat.' Short, but hopefully sweet. :) Let me know what you think, and if you have any ideas!





	Heartbeat

“Hear my heartbeat? Just focus on that.” A dull drumbeat echoed through the silent forest, her arms and legs going slower and slower. It interrupted the sound of a child’s laughter, his chubby hand tightly gripping a model of the Normandy. His face changed every few moments, flicking back and forth from the other orphans she had run with in her childhood back on Earth back to the children she hadn’t been able to save, the tiny bodies that were covered with their own colorful, starship spangled sheets.

“Shepard, follow the sound.” That same voice again, graveled and two-toned and familiar. It broke through the mists of the forest, bringing light beaming down through her eyelids as the dream slowly faded, revealing itself for what it was. It wasn’t real life, no matter how life-like it felt. The same dream multiple times a week, happening enough that it made waking up a relief.

Stirring, Shepard woke to a hand on her shoulder, opening her eyes to see Garrus looking down at her, concern written into his features and reflected in the slight clicking of his mandibles. “Shit,” she said, struggling to sit up, “I think I’m still stuck in that nightmare, looking at that face.” A smile she didn’t fully feel yet lit across her face briefly, but her heart was still racing faster than she would have liked. “Was I talking in my sleep?”

“Talking, drooling. The usual. The ever graceful Commander Shepard left some drool marks on my chest.” There was indeed a faint damp spot on Garrus’ natural carapace; she had vague recollections of falling asleep with her head on his chest last night, and she must have stayed there until he tried to wake her up.

“You tell anyone about that, Vakarian, and I’ll send your ass right back to Palaven, Reapers or no Reapers.” Finally she felt like she was back in the present, the familiar confines of her room on the Normandy coming into focus alongside Garrus’ familiar form next to her. It felt good to fall asleep next to him. It was the only way she could fall asleep, lately, a thought that brought forth a groan as she ran a palm over her face and rubbed at her temples, trying to shake the start of a headache off. Everything hurt today, all the spots Cerberus had knit back together aching in distinct points like stars.

Garrus caught her hand, using his other to brush the stray strands of red hair from her eyes. “Hey, Shepard, you doing okay? Seriously. You make me worry sometimes. If you ever want a break, a night out at the Citadel, people would understand.” He would understand. At the end of the day, that was all Shepard cared about.

“No time, Garrus.” No time for anything but pressing forward, desperately trying to marshall a force out of disparate elements in the galaxy. Trying to make krogans, salarians, turians, humans, and asari get along, not to mention batarians and… Just thinking about it was making her headache worse, and for all that Shepard could hear the clock ticking down, she sunk back onto the pillows. The little kid was still flickering around the edges of her mind, taunting her. You weren’t fast enough, he seemed to say. You never will be. Watch this all go up in flames. “Maybe five minutes. Vakarian, your commander is ordering you to lie down for a few more minutes.”

Garrus lay down next to her, leaving one arm open to form the perfect spot to rest her head. “I can’t deny a superior,” he told her, and her eyelids grew heavy again. This time, she knew the child wouldn’t come back. Not for a while.


End file.
